Tangles
Untangling my hair calls for a professional
but with a comb in her hand
and a cup of warm water
my mom tackles the improbable.
I try not to scream, painful winces my only resort.
I grasp tightly to the toothpaste
crusted sink to keep myself from
falling back as mom tugs and pulls.
When the rats' nests are terminated
she'll pull my thick golden strands
back into a rope-like braid.
I'll go about my day tangle-free.
Copyright 2008 by Adria Michelle Olson